


Fix you

by GatorChick95



Category: Law & Order: Criminal Intent, Law & Order: SVU
Genre: And Olivia is like Goren's older sister, Elliot is the protective big brother, I had a headcannon, I would never, If it helps there are warm and fluffy feels toward the end of it, M/M, Mike doesn't rape Robert, This has a slight rape thing in it, Triggers, couldn't help myself, don't read if that bothers you, i might continue this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-06
Updated: 2014-05-06
Packaged: 2018-01-23 18:47:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,764
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1575743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GatorChick95/pseuds/GatorChick95
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When one of the detective's is struck by an unimaginable crime, it's up to the rest of the team to make sure he's okay.</p><p>And maybe, just maybe..a romance for the books will rise from the ashes.</p><p>Trigger warnings for a small scene, but the ending is warm and fluffy, so. Yay.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fix you

**Author's Note:**

> This is actually my first time posting on here, and the first time in the fandom at all. Inspiration struck, and I love this ship, so. Yay. :3 Kudos/Comments are love. <3
> 
> Enjoy!

_The room is dark. He can't move his arms and he's pretty sure his legs are in the same situation. There's a stench - blood, maybe. Definitely sweat. He can taste the salt from his tears._

_There's a loud clang from across the room, some curses flying. For the first time since he woke up, he's scared. How could he possibly defend himself against someone when he was like this..?_

_The footsteps loomed closer, the breathing heavier. He feels, rather than sees, the body come closer, it's owner kneeling down to his level. There's a dark chuckle as the man's meaty hands skim his naked - and holy fuck, when did THAT happen? - body. He swallows hard, trying to squirm away from the unwanted attentions._

_There's bile in his throat at the sound of clothes rustling. Would anyone hear him if he screamed? He gets the feeling that, no, they wouldn't..He's not this man's first tryst, that's for sure. The hands are back, rougher and more demanding this time. They're touching lower, further down his body, and he's crying, he knows he is. He doesn't want this, thinks God is punishing him for **something**._

_The man moves over him, between his legs, and he's being prodded and pushed into position. There's a cruel smirk being pressed against the skin of his ankle and a pressure against him. His mouth opens, the tears falling freely now, and Oh God, **no**. His breath is hitching with the force of his sobs as a scream rips itself from his throat._

_He blacks out in less than five minutes, his body shaking._

* * *

 

Bobby is slumped in the chair in Elliot's office.

His hair is dirty and messed about, his clothes - found in the corner of the room he was in and put back on by Olivia, bless her heart - in tatters and hanging off his body. He smells of sweat, blood and salt, and he's shaking. He feels disgusting and used, and he just wants a shower, maybe a warm bed. Definitely a warm bed.

God, he hates SVU.

Not because of the people, because, no. He loves Elliot and Olivia as if they were family. He just hates that he's here. That he's being considered one of the victims. It makes him feel weak and incapable. Helpless.

Elliot and Olivia shuffle into the office silently, that same look on their faces. It makes him wince internally. Elliot lowers himself in the chair behind the desk, Olivia choosing to remain standing. Her lips are pressed in a thin line, the one that indicates she's pissed, that she wants revenge. He's almost flattered.

The file laying on the desk is opened, and Bobby looks away, because he was there. He doesn't need to see the pictures, the reminders. The bile is back with a vengeance, and he has to fight it down. A gentle hand touches his shoulder and squeezes, barely there, comforting. Olivia gets it, she's seen thousands of people in the same predicament that he's in.

Elliot clears his throat, watching them carefully.

"The lab called about five minutes ago," he murmured, voice unusually quiet, "we have the results on the tests they took."

Olivia gives a weak smile, her eyes guarded. She doesn't know how he's going to react to the next statement, it's clear in her eyes. He covers her hand with his, reassuring. Like he could do anything in this state, anyhow.

"The flesh under your nails and the..semen," she whispers, and he hides his wince, because, really? He understands it's their job, that word is always in their vocabulary, but..he hates it at this point in time, "it came back a match. Douglas Fitzgerald. He's one you put away, and he was just released on good behavior. Looks like Mister Fitzgerald was out for revenge."

He feels a weight lift off his chest, because, at least they know who the bastard is. They can catch him. He asks if they've got him in custody yet, his voice breaking. He's afraid to walk out of here and down the street, at this point, doesn't feel safe.

"Got a team out at his house, we're about to go meet them. We just..we wanted to tell you that we got him, first.," Elliot murmurs, standing from his chair again, slowly. He looks to Olivia as he pulls his jacket on. It's clear that they would both rather stay here, comfort Bobby. Surround him with family and positive thoughts, but. But they all know that can't happen, at least, not yet.

Olivia tells him that she'll be out in a minute, and once he's out of the office, with a soft squeeze to Bobby's free shoulder, she kneels beside his chair. Her eyes show a certain sadness, a softness. Rape cases always hit hard, but it's worse when it's one of the FBI's own. She touches his hand, holding his gaze, "You need a ride home, or..Or did you want me to call Eames?"

No, he doesn't want to deal with Eames right now. If Olivia is a mother hen, Eames is ten times worse. He shakes his head, lips pursed. He could call a cab..but, God, could he handle being in close quarters with a stranger right now? Probably not. He'd freak out, have a panic attack, and the cabbie would curse at him as he sped off. Yeah, passing on the cab.

Walking was definitely out of the question; he shuddered in fear just thinking about it.

Fuck.

* * *

 

Mike was pissed.

Wheeler was keeping her distance - smart woman - and Ross. Fucking Ross was cussing at him, threatening his job unless he calmed down.

Calm down? Ha, fat chance.

He narrowed his eyes, his expression dark as he rounded on Ross, spitting out, "Calm down? You withheld information from me, Danny. You kept me in the dark about my colleague, my best fucking friend, and you're asking me to calm down?," he snorted bitterly, pocketing his phone, "With all due respect, fuck you."

And he walked out, leaving Wheeler, Ross, and even Nichols, stunned.

* * *

 

There was soft knock on Elliot's office door, startling both Olivia and Bobby. Mike was gesturing, asking if he was allowed entrance. Olivia looked to the man beside her, watching as he nodded his consent. Not like he could keep Mike away, even if he wanted to.

The door opened and closed with a soft snicking sound, the new occupant stepping closer.

"Hey," he whispered, a faint smile curving his lips up. He had to stay positive, for Bobby's sake, "How're you feeling..?"

Stupid question, Mike thought, after the fact. How would anyone feel if they were sitting in SVU because some bastard decided to exact his revenge in the most vile way possible. He winced.

Bobby chuckled softly, his voice hoarse as he spoke, "Peachy, man.," he said quietly, tilting his head to look up at his best friend, "Can, uh. Can you take me back to my place..? A shower and a cup of coffee sound really enticing right now."

Olivia stood slowly, giving his hand one last squeeze before she let go. She stepped toward the door, toward Mike, her face contorted into one of concern. "Don't leave him alone, alright?," she whispered, gripping Mike's bicep tightly, her nails digging into his skin, even through two layers of clothes, "He may seem fine now, but..I've seen rape victims spiral, time and time again. He's..I'm not saying he's a suicide risk, but. His mind is clouded right now. He needs someone to stay with him, take care of him. Am I clear, Logan?"

Mike grinned at her, one of his lazy ones. "Yes ma'am. Wouldn't dream of leavin' him alone like this."

She nodded, shooting another look at Bobby. "Elliot and I have our phones on us, if you need anything..anything at all, just call, alright?" she murmured, waiting for him to nod in response, "And call Eames. I know, she's worse than me when it comes to mothering you, but. She's your partner, she'll want know how you're doing. Okay, I'm leaving, before Stabler blows a gasket." With a Cheshire grin, she slips out of the room and is gone from sight in under a minute.

"Alright, Goren, let's get you home and cleaned up," Mike murmurs, stepping up to his side, an arm sliding around his body to support him as he stands. Bobby hums in response, allowing himself to be lifted and helped out to the waiting car.

He trusts Mike.

* * *

 

Robert Goren is a stubborn man, and that's putting it lightly.

He protested when Mike parked the car, instead of letting him out of the door. He pouted when he was told that no, Mike was absolutely not leaving him alone right now.

Now, here he is, refusing Mike's help with getting ready for his shower.

"Jesus Christ, Bobby, just..let me help you," he gripes, hands on his hips, chin tilted up stubbornly, "It's the least I can do, especially after all those times you've had to patch me up after a case. Please?" his voice is soft and pleading, and Goren relents with a grumble under his breath that was too incoherent to hear.

Mike watches as Bobby sinks tiredly into the couch, as he slinks off to, first, the bathroom, turning the shower on. The water is just a touch below scalding. He figures it'll help with the aching muscles the other man has. His jaw clenches at the thought. God, it's a good thing that Stabler and Benson were the only two that were allowed to go pick this guy up. Otherwise..he may have been in a prison cell before the night was up.

He sighs quietly, pushing himself up, back to a standing position. His nose scrunches up at the suffocating steam that's already built up. He grabs a clean towel, laying it on the counter next to the shower stall. Next objective; a change of clothes.

The sight he's met with as he exists the bathroom is so ridiculously adorable and heartbreaking. Bobby is slumped over on the couch, his eyes closed as he clings to a pillow, likely for protection. There's a string of drool connecting his mouth to the fabric and the stress from all the cases he's worked, and now, this horrible thing that he's gone through are gone from his face, no lines are visible. He looks..younger. And man, Mike hates to be the one to disturb this peaceful, beautiful image.

He touches the other man's shoulder gently, timidly. Bobby's eyes shoot open, his mouth dropping, as if ready to scream. Mike automatically steps into his view, his voice soothing as he calms him down, stroke his arm in reassurance. Fuck, he hopes the bastard _fries_ for what he's done.

Bobby is breathing heavily, his hands shaking once again. Fear laces up his spine, even as Mike tries to calm him. Eventually, he just..stops. Stops fighting, just slumps over, another wave of exhaustion washing over him. He feels Mike tug him close, hears soft words being murmured into his hair.

He hates this feeling of helplessness, of drowning.

* * *

 

Somehow, by some miracle, Mike manages to get him to shower, dress and eat. Don't ask him how, but, by the time the last bite is wiped from their plates, he's just about as exhausted as Bobby is.

They sit on the couch for a while, Mike flipping through tv stations, trying to find something lighthearted and funny to watch. He pointedly ignores Bobby's uncomfortable shifting, afraid of setting the other man off again. They settle on a Jeff Dunham film, and they both end up laughing their asses off.

Things feel normal again, even though he knows that they won't be, not for a while.

Mike watches Bobby, out of the corner of his eye. He looks a little better. There's color - color other than the blood that was smeared on there earlier - flooded back into his cheeks. His hair is soft and fluffy again, and, despite his obvious exhaustion, his eyes are open as he listens to the jokes being told by the puppets on television.

In the corner of his brain, a word is supplies as he watches his friend, his colleague. _Beautiful_.

Of course, the thought isn't recent. He's always thought Robert Goren was a brilliant, unique, beautiful person. But this, the possessiveness and protectiveness he feels after the attack, just. It made him realize how absolutely gone he is for the other man.

And, he wants to tell him, but. Bobby isn't in the right state of mind right now, not to handle something like his best friend being in love with him.

Jesus, he could really use a drink.

* * *

 

They don't, in fact, drink anything that night.

As soon as the movie ends, Bobby stretches like a cat and looks to Mike with drooping eyelids. Mike grins at his state and receives a sleepily smile in exchange. He pushes himself up from the couch, holding an arm out to the other man, which he gladly takes.

They make it to the bedroom without incident, Mike's arm wrapped firmly around Bobby's stomach. He never wants to let him go, and sighs quietly in disappointment as he shuffles onto the bed. Mike helps hims settle down comfortably, before retreating to the kitchen to pour a glass of water so Bobby can take his pain meds.

He manages to get the meds down pretty easily, and he sets the glass on the nightstand, as he flicks the light off. He fully intends to let Bobby get plenty of sleep tonight, and if there's nightmares, well. He's literally right outside the bedroom.

He turns, about to leave, when a hand snakes out to grab hold of his wrist. Confusion clouds his face, as he gazes at the younger man. A squeeze, and silence.

"Bobby..?"

"Stay. Please, Mike..Stay."

And he sounds so desperate, it breaks Mike's heart. He nods, moving to crawl into the bed on the other side, burrowing under the covers. Bobby turns, moving to sprawl out against his chest, cuddly like a cat. The confusion grows stronger.

"The nightmares..they're not as bad when you're here."

"I told you I wasn't leaving you, y'know."

"I know. Thank you..for..being here.."

"Wouldn't want to be anywhere else."

He feels his cheeks grow hot at that last statement, and he hides his face in Bobby's hair, despite the darkness of the room and the fact that he can't be seen. God, he wishes the circumstances were different.

Bobby breaks the silence.

"I always thought about what this would be like."

"What, cuddling? Thought you and Eames were a thing."

A snort, "She's not my type, Mike."

"Oh yeah? What is your type?"

A smile against his skin, a beat of silence, a sleepy murmur of; "you.", and his world has turned upside down. Bobby's type was..him..? Robert Goren, one of the most successful FBI agents, just admitted that he was his type?

Mike swallowed hard, the words stuck in his throat. He wanted so badly just to _say them_.

"You remember when I first came to the major case squad?," he says, instead, "We hated each other, always tried to best each other. Look at us now, professing our undying love."

His tone is playful, yet serious. He's testing the waters, in fear of Bobby not being ready to hear the words with recent events. But Bobby just laughs quietly, a hot puff of breath fanning against Mike's t-shirt covered chest. "Always knew it would be you for me.," he says, no hesitation in his tone. Mike relaxes underneathe him, "I think Eames and Wheeler had a betting pool for how long it would take us to realize."

That earns an eyeroll and an affectionate smile. Those women knew more than what was good for them sometimes.

He can tell Bobby is getting closer to sleep, his breaths are starting to even out, his form pliant against Mike's. But, he has to say it, at least once. It has to be now.

"I love you, Bobby."

His voice sounds loud in the quiet room, his ears ringing as he awaits a response. A half-awake noise sounds from the other man as he snuggles even further into Mike's form.

"Love you, too, Mikey."

And Mike, he fell asleep with a smile on his face, and a certain warmth in his chest.

Because, they were going to be okay.

He'd make sure of it.

END.

**Author's Note:**

> I might actually continue this. I dunno yet.
> 
> Hope you liked it!
> 
> Don't forget to catch me on tumblr; breaktherulesandfangirl.tumblr.com


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